New Neighbors (Alternatively, Nectar)
by Decada
Summary: Gone are the old neighbors who bicker in front of their house and provide Peter entertainment. But this new family, particularly the new girl, may prove just as fun as his old ones.


The Olsens' old place felt so empty and void of life and warmth when they left the old manor across the street from the Vainomenain-Oxensteirna flat. So, now how will Peter fill his bored hours when he had no old couple arguing and ruining the block to watch from his seventh story window? Whose cat will come up to his window by the miracle of feline balance and eat pieces of fish and poultry from his fingers while listening about his day? Whose smoldering athletic son will he peep at through the window he makes a show of not blocking with the thick curtain when he comes by from university?

Certainly not the family whose caravan and moving truck pulled up to the manor's driveway two month later. And normally, Peter was more than chipper when his fathers suggested they welcomed the new neighbors with their famous pastries, Swedish-Finnish culture casserole surprise, and gift baskets of housewarming essentials, but this was not normal times. He can't find the welcoming mood when the family he grew up with was long gone and, if one pardoned the melodramatics, left an irreparable hole in Peter's life.

But, since he was too old to pout in his room all day and whine in protest, Peter dressed up and styled his hair like his fathers asked and walked with them across the street, carrying one of the glass containers that had a large tropical parfait. His responses to his father Timo's excited bubbling about new friends and being good neighbors were half-assed grunts and incoherent mumbling that sounded affirmative enough to go by unnoticed. Crowding the front stoop, the little family waited while Timo knocked on the door and rang the doorbell.

The man who opened the door peered at them with shock, and possibly a bit of annoyance. Possibly a forgivable reaction; judging by the stacks of boxes, it seemed that they were interrupting the family's unpacking. But his eyes fell upon the array of food that the trio bore, so his face softened.

"Er, hello," the man said.

"Hi!" Timo chirped. "We saw that we were having new neighbors, so we thought we'd stop by and welcome you to the block!"

"Huh," the man said, nodding despite the perplex look he was giving them all. "I didn't know housewarming was still a thing." He shrugged and stepped aside to let the three in.

"Well, thank you for coming. Please, come in the living room. The furniture's set up there, at least."

"Love?" A woman's voice, panting and slightly drained, called out from somewhere down the hall. "Who's at the door?"

"Our neighbors," the man called back as he led the three men into his living room. They had to circumvent boxes and bins and fragile pieces of art that had yet to be unwrapped from their bubble covering, but they made it to the couches and chairs and placed the food on the table.

"Oh, wonderful!" the woman called back. She grunted with effort and footsteps scuffed against the carpeting of the lower level. The woman arrived, dabbing her forehead with a piece of cloth. "Hello! It's nice to meet you all!"

"And it's wonderful to meet you!" Timo beamed. He took the woman's outstretched hand and shook it. "My name's Timo. This is my husband, Berwald –"

"Hej." The taller male shook their hands and gave a short nod.

"– And our son, Peter!"

"Hey," Peter greeted them with even less enthusiasm than Berwald. He's not allowed to say no to coming, but that doesn't mean he can't mourn the loss of his daily real life entertainment in favor of these already boring people.

"I'm Sayen, and this is my husband, Haldr."

"Pleasure," Haldr said.

"Oh, locals!" Timo shot his eyebrows up at Berwald. "You here that? Norse names!"

"I was here this whole time," Berwald replied.

"Wow, everything looks wonderful! Oh, especially this parfait!" Sayen picked up the deep dish and turned it to see all side, smiling brightly. "My daughter would especially love this! Speaking of which..."

Sayen set the dish down and went back to the wide entrance to the living room, stopping at the threshold to holler, "Olivia! Sweetheart, come down and meet the neighbors!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming!" came the call back somewhere upstairs. There was a gentle thud, probably this "Olivia" letting down another box on the floor above in this hell of brown cardboard boxes, and following it and the lowered volume of music blasting in the upper level was the clatter of feet hurrying down the stairs.

Sayen rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Teens. Am I right?"

"At least yours will actually turn down her music when guests come over." Berwald gave Peter a pointed stare, and smiled at the indignant upturn of his son's nose.

"Yeah?" the newcomer said from the entrance, drawing the attention of the living room's occupants and -

There was no way in hell that this girl was just a teen.

Peter has met and befriended and hung out with teens, keeping in touch with his demographic and all that, and the only ones to look anything like Olivia were the ones on TV played by magazine model actors who the casting crew obviously thought could fool the average viewer into believing they were anywhere under twenty.

But there's no mistaking the sweater with the familiar high school emblem embroidered across her chest, she was definitely around Peter's age. Yet, again, Peter was not lucky enough to meet a girl who looked like… this. Like she woke up plotting to use her perfect goddess face and decadent curves and leggy height to set off every one of Peter's "horny teenage virgin boy" bells and skip away laughing at the mess she left him.

"Oh, parfait!" Olivia said, picking up the dish. "Right on time, my sweet tooth's killing me!"

"You could at least say hi to our neighbors, first," Haldr scolded her.

"Hey, my name's Peter," the young man shot out of his seat and nearly shoved his open hand to the poor girl, with his oh-so perfect timing and not awkward at all social faux pas.

Olivia's eyebrows shot up with amusement that matched her smile. She shook his hand. "Olivia."

"Smooth," Berwald chuckled low when Peter sat back down in the chair next to his.

"Oh, don't tease the boy, honey," Timo said. "You know how awful he handles crushes. Though, having one so sudden –

"So, how are you all liking the house so far?" Peter forced out. Timo merely snickered when Peter glared at him out of the corner of his eye.

Haldr and Olivia sat on the couch while Sayen went to gather plates. Haldr stretched and stretched his head. "Well, we just moved in yesterday, so we haven't gotten accustomed to the house. But we loved it during the open house, so no complaints."

"Yeah." Peter nodded and looked towards Olivia. He nodded at her sweater. "So, Olivia, looks like you're transferring to my school. What year are you?"

"Eleven."

"Oh, same here! Alright! You are going to love our teachers. Our school is so much fun!"

Olivia shrugged. "Okay."

"I jut had an idea," Sayen said as she carried foam plates and plastic cutlery into the living room. "How about after some of this delicious food, you give Peter a tour of the house? I'm sure that you two wouldn't want to be stuck talking boring stuff with old people."

"Why not just give them a rubber while you're at it," Haldr grumbled.

Sayen gaped at him. Shaking her head, she retorted, "Yes, because nothing gets a couple of kids hot and bothered like a dull walk around a house full of boxes."

"Fair enough."

After a hearty brunch and dessert, Olivia led Peter out the living room and the two walked about the house, finding themselves out back in the backyard. Damn, the Olsens even uprooted their garden and took it with them. Falling in step with Olivia on the sandstone path, Peter had his hands folded and his ears open.

This did not count as a first date, but Olivia was sharing so much about herself in their conversation, that Peter was already learning about her in that hour alone, and in turn, he shared some tidbits about himself, mainly to try to spark some interest in him and keep her talking, her voice dripping with honey and poetics sending warm tingles in Peter's blood.

She wanted to be an English teacher, get more kids into literature before the very love of books itself died in this world. She wanted to go to impoverished countries and teach the children there to read. And if not that, then she'd be into baking, so she'd have a shop to run and a full stock of sweets to come home to.

"I mean, yes, right now, I'm burning cakes left and right," Olivia said. "But someday, oh, someday, I'm going to bake the best damn cakes and pies this little county has ever tasted!"

"And I bet I'm going to be the first in line," Peter joked along. The path was coming into a circle around the gated backyard. They strolled along the fence, with Olivia more easily able to peek over the fence than Peter. "But if not that, than how about writing poetry? Do you write any? You seemed like the writing type as well as the reading type."

"As a matter of fact," Olivia grinned, "I do. I have a whole collection of poetry in journals and notebooks. My old room was a fire hazard with all the papers and stuff."

"Ah," Peter nudged Olivia. "You have to let me read some. I'm a sucker for poems."

Olivia peered over the fence posts, but it seemed she wasn't looking at anything. A hum vibrated from her lips, and a different type of smile flashed upon her face before it settled back into the sweet, nonchalant kind. "How about I recite some right now?"

"You memorized some?"

"Of course."

Peter grinned. "Hit me."

"Okay. This one is called 'Nectar'." Olivia took a deep breath and brushed the tuft of ink black hair from her forehead.

"A fragranced orchard, not so traversed

Because only the sweetest birds

And gentlest bees are permitted.

And though the best rarely do come,

They come, drawn by the bright fruits

That have their wings thrum with excitement."

Peter nodded, eyes alight with appreciation.

" _The leaves fold over their fruit until_

 _These bees and birds land and caress_

 _And tickle and coax the leaves._

 _The branches part, the leaves open_

 _And out are the ripe, plump gifts from God_."

Somehow, without realizing it until his back brushed against the wooden fence, Peter was backing away as Olivia eased closer. He could feel the soft, top quality fabric of the sweater against him. His eyes widened, mouth gaping in the same manner, but no words came out of the stunned and gaping maw.

" _The bees are gentle as they partake in the peach_

 _And the sweet birds peck the shell of the pomegranate_

 _Until the addictive nectar drip from where they pierced the_

 _Coveted treats. Their wild abandon shake the branches_

 _Their feverish beating of wings bring a quiver to the leaves_."

Olivia slowly ran a hand up Peter's arms. She felt the goosebumps even through his sleeve, and saw the confused, fevered, hormonal need in his wide blue eyes. She smiled.

" _The nectar is thick, as always in the summer_

 _When the sun casts its light on the hunger_

 _And the feeding. The instincts overcome the_

 _Birds and the bees 'til all they know is that_

 _To their core, their hunger becomes gluttony_

 _That only the honey thick juices dripping from the fruit_

 _Can sate._ "

Olivia angled her head so her forehead touched his. The extra centimeters she had on him added a sort of intimidating allure to this game of hers. She ran her hand up to Peter's cheek, and tilted his head so their noses touched.

" _And what of the orchard?_

 _Except that the branches will always part_

 _For those birds and bees and let them enjoy_

 _The heavy fruit bloomed especially for the permitted._ "

Her legs was too close to his, so she must have felt the way his thighs quivered. And, just like Peter had suspected, she skipped back and smiled at the mess she left him. "Hm, now I'm craving sweets, again. Come on, let's see if there's still more of that parfait left."

And on shaky legs he followed, looking down and counting the passing sandstones until the sudden flood of hormones traveled back into their little hives and left his lower regions alone.

He couldn't tell if these new neighbors were going to be fun, but they may very well be interesting.

Author's Note: Hey, so I've been thinking about dipping my toes back into fanfiction, and what better way of doing that than by freakishly-long drabbles that are basically just short stories? This was part of a drabble meme/game I took on my rp blog, captainrustedfort, and the OC, Olivia, belongs to Tumblr user araethi (if you're in the tumblr rpc, please check her out, she is fantastic and her character is just like cinnamon-spiced warm cider!) In this one, like some of the other fics I write, Peter is older than canon, mostly because I like writing older Peter and seeing where his character goes if he grows up. :D

Hope you enjoyed this thing as much as I enjoyed writing it!


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